Sleepless
by Spider-Midget
Summary: Three hours wasn't much, but it was a start. Friendship fic. Little mushy.


Red Alert stared at the numerous monitors, looking but not really seeing what they projected. By Earth's time, it was four in the morning, and the start of his third day without so much as walking past his quarters. He was never constant, switching from ready to drop to ready to take on the word every few hours, and he prayed they would have a quiet week, for he simply was not thinking right, and the thought of someone getting injured on his account concerned him greatly.

Feeling another wave of exhaustion shoot through him, he grit his denta and forced his optics to fixate on the screens. He was trying desperately to keep from collapsing into recharge when he heard someone call him.

"Red? What are you doing here?"

He spotted Inferno in the corner of his vision. "Security maintenance," he answered. "Meant to do it a couple of days ago, but couldn't find the time."

Inferno grinned. "I hear you. Prowl was really on my heels for this report last week, but—hey, fire trumps reports. Need a hand?"

"I just finished." His hands dropped from the console; he turned and smiled with difficulty. He motioned to the two giant automatic sliding doors leading to the main corridor. "Anything going on out there? It's quiet."

"I think almost everyone is recharging. Besides Prowl. I don't think he ever recharges."

Red Alert frowned gently. "What about the rec. room?"

"I didn't see anyone when I passed by."

"Are you on call?"

Inferno shook his head. "I'm not scheduled to start my shift for another few hours, either, so I've got some time to kill...you must be tired, though?" he paused, seeming to study his friend.

"Not so much. I could use some Energon, if you're offering. Maybe we can get a game going, or a movie or something."

"Not recharging again, huh?" Inferno boldly asked, the friendly smile fading from his faceplates.

Red Alert sighed and shook his head gently. "No such luck. I'll meet you in the rec. room, ok? I just want to double check everything..."

"Sure, Red." As cheerful and understanding as he sounded, Red Alert easily picked up on the solemnity of his words. It didn't happen often, but when it did, Red Alert was quick to get annoyed. He didn't much appreciate being looked at so pityingly.

"Thanks," he said quietly.

"No problem. I'll get you a cube, all right? Just...just try not to take forever, ok?"

After Inferno left, Red Alert shifted his attention back to the console. He plugged in the access code and began to review the new addictions, cataloged (and fixed) bugs, and security updates. True, he would have rather stayed right where he was, and exhaust his remaining energy alone, but Inferno was one of his very good friends and with all the trouble from the Decepticons and all the fires Inferno was called out to, they didn't hang out as much as they used to.

Twenty minutes later, his comm. Line opened.

(Red, you coming?) It was Inferno. (Sideswipe and Sunstreaker are here.)

(I'm on my way.)

When he arrived, Sideswipe and Bluestreak were chatting animatedly, while Sunstreaker idly sat by watching the television. He looked bored. Inferno spotted him and held up the cube of Energon, calling, "hey, Red, glad you finally decided to join us!"

Battling shyness, Red crossed the room and sat, taking the Energon with a quiet "thanks."

"Hey, Red," Sideswipe greeted. "What's going on?"

Bluestreak studied him for a moment and then hit him with a barrage of questions. "Aren't you off this morning? I thought I heard Prowl say—let me check." A quick pause. "Yep. You're off. So why are you here? Can't recharge? I have that problem sometimes. You can go see Ratchet, if you want, but there's not a lot he can do about it. I wonder if he could install a sub-protocol, sort of like that timer on Spike's television, that would just put you into recharge after a certain amount of time? You know, force you into it. Not the best solution, but you do what you have to, right, Red?"

"Right," he answered without missing a beat. Truthfully, he had only listened to about 10% of Bluestreak's babble, but thought he pieced it together pretty well.

"The only time I have trouble recharging is when Sunny stays up buffing himself all night," Sideswipe grinned.

"Shut up," Sunstreaker mumbled, otherwise unfazed.

"Even worse when he stands in front of the mirror. Just stands there. Hours on end. No recharge at all."

"Sideswipe!" Sunstreaker snapped, twisting around on the sofa. "I have patrol in ten minutes and I'm trying to unwind."

"I have patrol in ten minutes, too," Sideswipe said grouchily.

"Yeah, but I'm not talking about you, I'm talking about _me. _If you don't shut up I'm going to rip your arms out of their sockets again. Now can it, lug nut."

"I'll have already beaten you into scrap-metal with your own fender," he replied gruffly. Sunstreaker grunted, but otherwise did not stir. Satisfied, Sideswipe returned his attention back to the group. "You guys hear what happened to Starscream?"

"Megatron leave him behind again?" Inferno asked.

"Better. Old Megs used him as bait, then left him behind. Wouldn't let Ratchet touch him—Ratchet didn't want to, anyway—so he had to walk all the way back to the Decepticon base."

Sighing dramatically, Sunstreaker heaved himself off the sofa and walked over to Sideswipe, nudging him to get his attention.

"Wow," said Bluestreak. "That's pretty low. Almost as bad as the time-"

"Red?"

Suddenly, Red Alert was aware of everyone staring at him. He straightened up, noticing for the first time that he hadn't touched his Energon. Probably the reason he was feeling so bad.

"I'm listening," he assured them.

"You don't look so good."

"Maybe he's sick," suggested Sideswipe, who received a swift _thwack_ to the back of the head.

"Nice going, dumbaft, now he thinks he's sick."

"Well, look at 'em!"

"Let's go, we're gonna be late."

Red Alert, Bluestreak, and Inferno watched the two leave the rec. room, Sideswipe griping and rubbing his head. Sunsteaker punched him in the arm before they vanished down the corridor.

"You know, Red, maybe Sides is right," Inferno gently suggested. "You might have a virus or something."

"I'm not sick."

"So then why are you three days overdue for recharge?" the change in Inferno's voice made Bluestreak visibly uncomfortable. He apologized and made up somewhere to be, and then bowed out, leaving just the two of them.

Red Alert could feel that tightness in his mid-section, like someone squeezing the life from him. He began to sip his Energon, hoping for it to end soon. "You'll just think I'm glitched," he muttered, and then added, "_more_ glitched. Let's just finish our Energon. You need to get ready for your shift."

"If there's something bothering you, you need to tell someone so they can help you."

Hesitantly, he asked, "can I trust you not to say anything?"

"Sure."

Something about the way he answered made Red cringe, and think back to when Inferno had abandoned him. Right after, he'd saved him from beneath the pile of rubble that took everything from him, and from then on their friendship grew, despite Red's newfound...instability.

"Ok, here goes...What if I don't come back online?" Inferno's faceplates registered confusion. "From recharge. What if I don't come back online?"

"Why wouldn't you?"

Red Alert glared at the tabletop, silent.

He hated to make his friend jump through hoops, but he hated even more to verbalize the intense fear inside him. So there they sat, playing twenty questions while Infero grasped at straws to figure out just what was wrong. "Did Ratchet say anything...?"

"I haven't seen Ratchet."

"If it's effecting you like this, maybe you should."

"But what if I do, and he says...'_sorry, Red, but that glitch of yours is killing you, and there's nothing I can do'?_ I don't want...I'd rather not know."

Inferno frowned. "You're really shook up about this."

"Yes, Inferno, I am! I'm exhausted, and I know skipping recharges is only frying my system faster, but I can't—this stupid—it never shuts up. It's so illogical, because I know better." It was hard to talk about this, it was something he usually kept inside. Most of the time he could push it to the back of his processor and busy himself, but every once in a while it completely crippled him. "I can't recharge. I'm averaging anywhere from twenty minutes to an hour any time I try. I can hardly consume enough fuel. I can't function. Someone's going to get hurt because of me."

"You need to see Ratchet. You can't keep going like this."

He sighed and hung his head. "I know."

Neither one of them spoke for several minutes. Red Alert regretted telling Inferno what he had. Everyone knew he was paranoid, but few knew to what extent his paranoia went, and now, now he had let a close friend in, and he wondered if Inferno would distance himself now. It wasn't his burden to bare, after all.

"How about this...I'll page Prowl and see if I can switch to a later shift. We go back to your quarters, and you try and recharge. Then we'll go and see Ratchet. Sound good?"

"You don't have to do this."

"I want to."

"You shouldn't _have_ to."

Reaching out, he clasped his friends shoulder. "You're my friend, Red. I'd do anything for ya. So, what do you say? You willing to give it a try?"

"Yes. Just...just wait a few minutes. I'm not... feeling..." laying his head down on the tabletop, the two waited for the nausea to subside before Inferno paged Prowl with the request. Remarkably, it didn't take much cajoling on Inferno's end to get Prowl to agree.

Eventually they made it to his quarters, where Red Alert pulled down the guest berth from the wall, and then climbed onto his. It was eerily quiet, the only sounds were that of the two of them cycling in fresh air and unnecessary systems shutting down. He couldn't remember falling into recharge, but he must have, for when he roused, his internal systems logged a full three hours.

He glanced over at Inferno, still and peaceful.

Three hours? It wasn't much, but it was a start.


End file.
